


vertigo

by sweettasteofbitter



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Sex Toys, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 18:56:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19257205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweettasteofbitter/pseuds/sweettasteofbitter
Summary: Despite her dislike of heights, Lace Harding likes tall people, and tall things.





	vertigo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChocoChipBiscuit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoChipBiscuit/gifts).



> Okay. So. I know this ends somewhat abruptly, because I tried to write the truly smutty bits of this but it just wouldn't happen to my liking so I'm ending it like this. I hope you like it!

Svarah Sun-Hair had broad shoulders, wrinkles in the corner of her eyes, and short cropped hair on which Lace Harding’s grasping fingers were desperately trying to find leverage.

Being pinned to a bed by the naked thane of Stone-Bear Hold was not how Lace had imagined her night, but she appreciated the turnout of events nonetheless. Much like almost all humans, Svarah was a good head taller than Lace, and Lace was very appreciative of this fact. The lead scout of the Inquisition was not averse to appreciating women of tall stature, and neither was she immune to being seduced by them. She enjoyed being the source of their flirtations, and sometimes she simply allowed herself to let conversation evolve into something more physical, an act without deep romance, and no strings attached.

Svarah nuzzled Lace’s collar bone. Lace shivered.

“You can’t tell me you’re _still_ cold,” Svarah said.

The animal furs were as warm against Lace’s back as Svarah’s body was against her front. The fire pit in the middle of the room burnt comfortably. There was no way Lace could claim the chilly air that had enveloped her on the frighteningly tall cliffs still had her in its grip.

“I’m not,” Lace said. “You’re certainly making sure of that.”

“As thane, it is my duty to give our guests our best welcome,” Svarah chuckled, and leaned back on her elbows, all sinew and strength. Lace’s eyes followed a pointy scar down to between her breasts.

There was so much to explore, out there in the world, and here, in more tactile affairs, and Lace would not let this opportunity pass her by. She wriggled her hands in between their bodies and pressed her palms up against the softness of Svarah’s breasts. Svarah leaned into her and hummed, pleased to be touched like this.

“What do you like, Lace?” Svarah said lowly.

Lace’s breath hitched in her throat. She liked many things. The way Svarah said her name was one of them. Svarah being tall as the trees that grew from the dank mud of the Frostback Basin was another.

Even though Lace wasn’t quite versed in speaking about her desires, she was willing to give it a try.

“I like how tall you are.”

“So you like tall women? Tall…people, perhaps?”

Lace nodded.

“Wouldn’t you say that’s somewhat ironic?” Svarah’s smile bared her teeth, undoubtedly recalling how woozy Lace had been when taking one peek over the hold’s edge.

“Considering my aversions to heights?” Lace flashed a smile in return. “Maybe.”

Svarah kissed her on the mouth, then, lips surprisingly soft. The warmth of her was incredible, and Lace pressed herself up into her to welcome it. Lace wrapped her arms around Svarah’s shoulders to keep her close, digging her fingernails in her shoulders.

“There isn’t much that I mind doing, if that is an invitation to elaborate,” Svarah said when she leaned back, and Lace was delighted to notice that Svarah’s breathing pattern was becoming more erratic.

Lace didn’t reply, because the abundance of ideas made her stay silent. She wanted Svarah’s fingers, her mouth, and, Maker, she wanted Svarah not to be gentle with her.

“If I may be so blunt to suggest something?” Svarah offered.

“What is it?”

“Hold on,” Svarah said, and got up from the bed.

“Hey!” Lace protested, scrambling up from the bed herself, bereft of comfort due to being so rudely left to the cold again.

“I’m not leaving,” Svarah promised, and, relieved, Lace grew lax against the pillow.

Lace couldn’t complain, not truly, because the view she was treated to was a sweet torture. In the orange glow of the fire, Lace could see the impressive build of Svarah’s back and legs. Lace observed rippling muscles in interesting places as Svarah kneeled and took something from underneath a table. It was a box that Lace hadn’t noticed before because it was covered by a dark, fuzzy bear skin.

There was no key. Instead, Svarah unfastened the clasps that held the lid with practiced ease. She took something out of the box and placed it on the bed for Lace to see.

“What do you think?”

If Lace had been wearing any clothes she would’ve grown hot under the collar. On the bed was a phallus, crafted out of wood. It was sleek and smooth save for a few tactically designed ridges here and there. Its purpose was obvious.

Lace imagined the toy inside of her, filling her up. It was probably bigger than anything or anyone that had taken her before.

Their eyes met, and the intensity of the eye contact was so much that Lace pressed her thighs together and swallowed.

“Gladly.”


End file.
